


Wilbur watched Tommy in exile

by Oblio



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: DreamSMP - Freeform, Exile, TommyInnit - Freeform, wilbursoot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:20:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oblio/pseuds/Oblio
Summary: Au where Wilbur could watch Tommy from the afterlife while he was in exile :)CW: a little blood and manipulation
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Wilbur doesn’t know much anymore, but he knows he doesn’t recognize the boy in front of him. Once bright blond hair, grown tangled and stained with dirt. Dull blue eyes, once filled with life and laughter, bore into the ground as he stares at his toes. His lips are chapped and it looks as though someone has recently hit him across the face. A bloodied bandage on his arm, just below the sleeve of an old tattered red and white t-shirt that sits loosely upon his skinny frame.

Wilbur sees the boy turn his eyes up to the sky as if he’s looking for something. The boy opens his mouth towards the heavens and mutters “I miss you Wilbur. Why did you leave me?” Wilbur flinches. He recognizes the boy now, though it hurt less when he didn’t. “Tommy.” Wilbur says. The boy doesn’t hear him, he cannot hear him. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” Wilbur manages to get out before his breath hitches in his throat “I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you, I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough.” 

The boy’s eyes light up, and a small smile forms upon his face. For one jubilant moment Wilbur believes that the boy can see him, can hear him. But the boy looks past Wilbur’s shoulder to an approaching figure. A man with a mask, a perfect smile, unmoving on his face. Wilbur watches in horror as the man draws the boy into a hug. The man murmurs softly to the boy, “it’s ok, Tommy I’m here for you. You’d be alone but I’m here, don’t worry.” The boy smiles up at the man, a glint in his dull eyes. “I’m glad you’re my friend Dream.”


	2. Wilbur makes a fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to an au I made where Wilbur can watch tommy in exile while he’s dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t planning on continuing this but then someone asked and I thought why not :)) this def isn’t as good as the first one so sorryyyy. I’ll prob add one more chapter after this and then end it I think

Wilbur sits and watches helplessly as the boy’s exile turns from days to weeks to months. 

He doesn’t entirely remember who the boy is, the memories of his past life are fuzzy, but he can tell that they used to know each other. Wilbur feels pulled to the boy, like a rope tied to a boat that keeps it from drifting off to sea. He finds that no matter how hard he tries to pull his eyes away from the pitiful child, he can never leave the sight behind for long. 

Every day he witnesses the same endless routine, the boy waking up coughing in the frigid water, crawling onto the barren shore, and laying in a shivering heap of tattered clothing until he finally gets up and gathers his tools for the day. The boy will hastily tidy the camp as if he is expecting someone. On the days no one comes, he sits cold and sniffling outside his tent, staring into the water for hours. And then he’ll fall asleep under the stars, and in the morning he’ll wake up in the water once again. 

But some days someone does come to visit, a masked man with honey on his tongue and iron in his fists. On these days the boy will perk up, his tired eyes glistening with something that could almost be happiness. The man walks up to the boy, and the boy will throw his hard earned tools to the ground with zero hesitation. He watches, eyes glazed over and smiling, as the pile explodes before him. He flinches every time. 

Then the man will draw him into his arms for a cold embrace, and then he’ll leave. And again the boy will sit outside his tent and fall asleep under the stars, and he’ll wake up thrashing in the water. 

Each day this cycle repeats Wilbur feels the simmering rage bubble closer and closer to the surface. The boy’s shivers only fuel this heat. 

The seasons change and the days start to grow shorter. The air gets colder and colder at night, and one rainy day when the boy wakes up, his lips are blue and he can’t feel his fingers anymore. As Wilbur watches the boy pitifully try to start a fire with damp kindling and numb fingers, something inside him snaps. The heated rage that has been growing inside him for weeks suddenly floods out of him in a rush of warmth. 

Wilbur watches as the boy’s sad kindling bursts into a blazing flame. A tentative smile spreads across the boy’s and he rubs his frozen hands over the fire. Maybe it’s just a reflection from the flame, but it looks like some light has returned to the boy’s dull eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, fire still going strong, a smile lingers on his face. 

Still in shock, Wilbur looks down at his hands, surely he couldn’t have started the fire... he’s dead! But there was also no way that the boy could have created a fire with the damp kindling he was using...  
Wilbur flexes his fingers... he doesn’t quite understand how he still has power over the living world, but if he can use this power to help the boy then maybe there’s a reason for it...

**Author's Note:**

> Wooooo this is rlly short but I love it


End file.
